


Iridescent: Chaos

by relativelystupid



Series: Iridescent [2]
Category: Walking Dead, Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Depression, F/M, It's shitty as hell, M/M, ankle is busted, high from Vicodin, i just plot and whole story line, my friend wrote the thing, so many mistakes, tired
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-22
Updated: 2013-09-22
Packaged: 2017-12-27 07:41:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/976198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/relativelystupid/pseuds/relativelystupid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>That was what the world has given her. A new insight, not hope, never hope. It had given her fear, it had given her wisdom. In exchange, it took her body, her leg. This was the Law of Equality.</p><p>She was still waiting. For the right time, for the right purpose.</p><p>This was all her fault, but why did God take the world, instead of her?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Iridescent: Chaos

**Author's Note:**

> Fucking tired as hell

Once, people thought that the world would never end, would always hold it's majestic, untouched beauty, that it would always be what they deemed it would be.  
But now, they can't think of anything.

Now, they're just wild, greedy corpses standing up for the sole purpose to feed on live flesh, the human that was once them lost forever. Some survived, but all you could see in their eyes were abandoned hope and unmasked fear, waiting for the door to break down, for the undead to come and tear at them, their whole family. Merciless, even to children, infants, women.. they did not think. They acted. It was basic survival, to kill to survive, but that doesn't mean it's human, doesn't mean it's right, doesn't mean it's correct. It just means you're desperate.

In this world, gun shots were normal, dead bodies hanging from lamp posts were normal, people eating people were normal. Not that the world has changed, people were just shown what the world truly was, before all this. That the truth behind their picket fences were that people killed to feel safe, to feel satisfied. In this world, no one cared if you were left in an alleyway to die, the thoughts of being eaten alive sometimes a welcome thought. The world wasn't normal. Nobody was. We all just see ourselves in one big balloon of iridescent colors, protected.. happy.

That was what the world has given her. A new insight, not hope, never hope. It had given her fear, it had given her wisdom. In exchange, it took her body, her leg. This was the Law of Equality.

She was still waiting. For the right time, for the right purpose.

This was all her fault, but why did God take the world, instead of her?

Metal and concrete connected with each other as she walked, gloved fingers curling into fists. It had been a month since New York, and she was half-way to Atlanta. Her long red hair was in an array, sticking out like a beacon in the plain roads of Athens, her body shaking in exhaustion, but with her body, she figured it was impossible. Her leg was now made of titanium alloy, so was her arm. It was a price she had to pay, and she was still paying for it. Her body was slowly mutating into that of Daryl's, her organs slowly turning into mere body mass. And soon, she'll be feeling the numbing effect if she doesn't find Jordan or Glenn or Daryl, for that case. She worries for Dixon, too. He'll be feeling that shit side effect her goddamned serum, and she fears the worst of those side effects might happen to him. Breathing slowly, she eyed the upcoming town, hunger burning through her veins. Going to Georgia in her pace was like comparing a snail to another snail. Fucking slow. It was because her prostethic was too under developed, but it was because she was a scientist, not a fucking blacksmith. She had fashioned it to look like a human foot, though the movements remote. Arctic blue eyes looked up at the sign of a little convenient store, stomach practically growling in anticipation for food.

She saw two men were pulling on something, but she didn't think of it, just checking the last of her bullets, finding out that she had only two left. She whistled as she pulled off her bag and shoved her hand inside it, searching for  
She pulled on her mask, whipping out her beloved Colt Diamondback as she walked in, in her blaze of glory. "FUCKEN HANDS UP IN THE AIR!" She screamed, knowing very well that she's gonna bring down some serious shit into this lil' store. Her heart stopped as she saw a young woman tied up, propped aginst the shelf as she moaned, life slipping away. Her body was naked as the day she was born, and the two men who stood before her gasped in surprise, falling on their knees before the notorious Louise.

One man was crying, shaking in his boots as the masked woman walked up to him, gun pointing clear in between his forehead. "What the hell did you do to her, dipshit?!" She bellowed, feeling rage oozing from every pore, blue fire showing from behind the mask. "WHAT'S IT LOOK LIKE, FUCKER?!" The man that Os didn't hold at gun point brought down a 4x4 on her leg, and she twitched.

In two seconds, two bullets holes were centered in between their foreheads, and she was crying out to the high heavens, looking at the corpse of the young woman splayed upright, her sunset colored hair, her once sky blue eyes now a sickly yellow, hands reaching out to Louise's fiery red hair.

"I-im.. sorry.. I'm sorry.." she sobbed, ignoring the sharp pain as the reanimated corpse dragged its decaying nails on her scalp, pulling the strings of her mask along with it, revealing Louise Reid, her metal arm positioning itself against the corpse's bruised cheek. She could not get used to this, no matter what blaspheme she did in the past. She couldn't think like she had not sinned, when she sinned far more than those people she devoided of life, and this dead, moving corpse that did not do anything was dead, instead of her.

And maybe, she was crying because she's seeing Joi in the girl.

She shut up and held the gun up to the corpse's head, leaning on her bony shoulder as she pawed in vain at her arm, but successful as she drew blood from her head. Destroy the brain. Or destroy the whole body. Only two ways to go, and both she did out of fun. She let the course of death from the Mortis become a clichéd, movie-favourite demise. She brought this into the world, and she wanted to be punished, not the people she barely knew.

But she pulled the trigger.

The bloody head of the young woman fell on her skinny shoulder, and Louise pulled away, collecting her mask and some food, stashing them away in her backpack. "I need bullets." She stated blandly, walking out of the small store and being greeted by a small herd of walkers, making the redheaded woman sigh and walk in the other direction, ripping open a small package of chocolate, eyes devoid of tears. She could hear the guttural moans and groans of the undead right behind her, undoubtly seeing the freshly killed meat that she left, happy that they have flesh, once more. Gluttons. Her feet jerked a little, and she reminds herself to look for a mechanic shop, some oil and a place to settle her ass in for awhile. She may be looking for her asswipe friends, but she's tired as hell, and soon enough, there'll be no more military and Fort Knox, less and less people will survive, and humamity will be no more. It's only a fact, to know that. Death of people are encountered daily, but it's different, since they're coming back now, jaws snapping and minds greedy. She continues her treck to Atlanta, hoping to God that she'll find them there.

She was scared, scared of what will happen, though she knows very well what will. She's horrified of never seeing Amy's green eyes, Jordan's lazy smirks, Glenn's happy, carefree voice, Daryl's reassuring insults. She fears what they might think if they saw her like this, and if they thought she lied to them(which she did, in all good reason). She fears what may befall to them, but she knows Daryl can protect them. And then, she smiles. Maybe her serum wasn't so bad, anyway. Her feet are aching, so she glances around the almost abandoned road, blue orbs searching for a vehicle.

"AHHHHH!"

The blood curdling shrieks sends her into pulling her unloaded gun, breath hitching as a small girl, about twelve, running around with a much taller woman with peppered hair, and Jesus—one, just one— walker on their tail. But the older woman, she figures, the little girl's mother, maybe? The woman looks at her with pleading eyes, stumbling with her own feet as she makes her way towards the redhead, who had her mask on, her long red hair whipping against the wind. "L-lo—! Are-are you Loui?!" Louise didn't know how they knew of her, but she looked down at the woman who was clutching her little girl close, the corpse a good twenty feet away. But they were crying like it was their goddamned job, but Louise grunted in answer.

"Please-please.. help us. We'll.. we'll give you everything!"

Now it was awkward.

Louise stepped over to the side and intercepted the walker, bringing down the butt of the gun on its head, and after it fell down, she lifted her steel leg and stomped it throughly on its forehead, popping like a bubble gum under the sole of her boot. "You should go," Louise says behind her mask, never sparing the two a sideways glance as she strode off, but a small, cold hand stopped her, making her hiss in suddeness. "Please. Help us get back to camp." The small girl cried, her neck and face littered with cuts and bruises. Louise felt her heart falter a little.

But they knew of her. And Louise she would be.

"You do know I have a fee, right?" She said nonchalantly, tilting her masked head. Bullshit, she thought. You have fees now? Internally screaming, she waved a dismissive hand at the two, walking off as they gave her a funny look. "W-wait! W-we have food.. and-and firearms! You-you need those, right?" The woman never saw the disappointed smile barely showing from the edges of her mask. It was only a month, it seems, and Louise had made quite a name for herself.

"I-is it true tha-that you.. you lost your arm and leg.. in New York?" The small one piped, and she's briefly reminded of Amy. "Wanna go back to your camp, or not? 'Cause I seriously don't have time for interviews." Louise bit out, the subject of her loosing her body parts a strung nerve. "This is Sophia. And-and I'm Carol." The older one says, her blue eyes holding pride for her little daughter. Louise wonders if her mother ever looked like that for her.

"What the hell were you two doing, anyway?"

"Sophia wanted to gather some mushrooms for the hunter in our g-group." Carol blushed deeply, and Sophia held out the small basket of mushrooms to show it at the taller woman, who chuckled coldly. "Bad idea. This is practically a red zone for you people." She grouched unpleasantly, noting that they didn't even have even a itty-bitty goddammed knife with them. She had no bullets left, and Jesus Christ, these people were clueless. "Now, what direction is your camp?" She said much more gently, pulling her curly red hair into a tight ponytail, and Carol could see the 'blue fire' behind the mask that Dale always talked about. Louise waited, praying to whatever deity there is to make this easier for her. Surely, they know where their camp is, right?

"No."

Well, shit.

"What now?"

"No, my daughter and I-i, we just got lost." The meek woman pulled her little girl close as the fire flickered and blazed, turning dangerous into lethal. "Christ.." Louise rubbed her face, well rubbed the mask, and then sighed, leading them back into the forest. "Well, you came from here, so I'm guessing you didn't wander off too far." She said, more to herself than the two. People really never changed.

"Come on, daylight's burning." She snapped, but the two looked as pleased-as-punch as they walked behind her, and she wonders why her name managed to reach these people's ears. Eyes narrowing, she looked around, feeling a cold shiver run down her spine. "C'mon, move. Move!" Carol and her daughter whimpered, and Louise picked up the small girl to carry her, letting Carol run freely alongside her. There were immediately four walkers on their tail, and even without a bullets, she reckons she could do it, but she had company, and if she had to juggle between guarding them and shooting the fuckers in the face, it was damn near impossible. The little girl was obviously holding in her tears as she bounced in Louise's arms while the masked redhead ran, heart panting from the exhaustion. She was hurting, and if she had her mask off, they would see the pained look her face was contorting to, blood drawing from her prosthetic arm and leg from the exertion. It was hard, connecting the nerves with the wires to regain function, and it sure as hell hurt like a bitch. But she ran, and the walkers accumulated behind them, the small group of four now an annoying boyband of nine, all wearing civilian clothes, so she figures a town might be close, perfect. Just her luck, right? A goddamned town filled with thousands of zombies. Panting, Louise tossed the kid over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes and steered Carol to move infront of her, kicking one of the closest in the face. Sophia gasped, clutching at the woman's body desperately as she shook from the force of the kick, but the red haired woman suddenly dipped her torso and lifted a leg to do a successful roundhouse kick, her balance impeccable."CAROL! JUST KEEP RUNNING!" Louise's mask was a total bummer, since she's always using a gun, and the vision of this thing is just plain crap. Now, she's rethinking the whole 'mask' thing. If it weren't for the people who still wanted to kill her because of her past, she wouldn't be wearing the goddamned steampunk mask she got from a local comicbook store. "AH-twelve o'clock!" Louise immediately turned left, to her front and delivered a slightly jerky cresent kick, her metal leg creaking from the force as the head was severed. Her grip on Sophia tightened like a vice, making the girl give another gasp: "There's an opening, at your six!" Straightening up, Louise dashed over to where the small girl had indicated, dodging and ducking from their covetous hands, sliding Sophia in front of her body so she was hugging the little girl. One latched on her arm, and Louise twitched, feeling the slimy tongue pass along the metal, teeth buckling from biting it too hard. "Sonofabitch, I just fucken made that!" She bellowed, angling her arm so her hand would be placed proportionally to its face, and she grabbed, swinging the body by its head mercilessly. Grumbling incoherently, she ran once more, the little girl almost contented in her arms as she enveloped her.

"Carol, Carol! Where is your camp? Do you remember the slightest?" Louise tried, looking back as she ran, Carol a good five feet away from her. "I-i.. I think we came from here, and.. and turned—"

"That means jackshit! Jesus, what fucking general direction! This ain't a goddamned highway! Highways are straight, even. And you have a fucking kid with you, without even a godamned knife, what is this? Some kind of tea party I didn't get invited in? For fucking mushrooms! What, you think you're Alice, in Wonderland? What the hell— they don't have walking corpses out there! So get your fucking head out that rabbit hole and, Christ, knock some sense in it!" Louise ranted while she ran, and oh, God she hurt, she hurt so much. Carol was panting beside her, running for all she's worth(and that is not much), thoroughly shocked by the woman's capability to exert her feelings in one, very long, very agressive tirade, and the pepper haired woman is briefly reminded of Daryl, who sometimes looks like he wants to burst out into a number every time someone does something stupid.

Louise sighed. Night was falling, and some of the walkers were still on their tail, but it's nothing they couldn't handle. "LOUI! SIX!" Sophia shrieked, and in one fluid motion, she put the girl to the ground and glided to where three walkers were almost pawing at Carol and brought down her metal hand, immediately followed by an axe kick, and she thanks her stars for whoever she was before she forgot. Inhaling sharply, she twisted her body and swerved a hard right hook with her other arm, served with a wicked back kick, hitting the corpse in the stomach, fractionally going through it like a wet tongue on paper. Blood splattered against her cognac boot and denims, but she could care less. These people were going to pay her.

Atlast, none of the zombies were chasing them, and Louise grunted, squatting down to check her creaking prostethic. She was shit at mechanics, so her leg was pathetic as hell. "We have a mechanic." Oh, dear Lord God, she retracts her statement about them being useless, Jesus. In her life, she has never met an actual mechanic, just Glenn with his shitty car fondness, causing him to take mechanic classes every day off they had. Daryl, too. She knew he once worked for a car shop, but she's not entirely sure.

"C'mon, I see smoke." Louise smiled behind her mask, but of course the hadn't seen it. Carol nodded and held her daughter's hand, with Louise leading the way. Carol noted that the woman was twitchy, like she was in extreme pain from every step but was holding it in, shoulders hunched and body stiff as a wall. She had a limp and blood was running from her arm, down to her gloved hand. And Carol wonders how she replaced her limbs in this world now.

Sophia looks at her, and then to Carol.

After the disastrous event in New York, people acclaimed to have seen a woman donned in a long cobalt blue dress, her hair as red as fire and blood, her eyes burning a dark cobalt blue which seemed to change in the light, her arm and leg that was once said to be marked severed and replaced with metal ones, a mask covering every feature save for the eyes. Dale says he saw her himself, but she never knew the woman until she laid her eyes on the starving figure, all long sleeves and jeans, but in her hand lay the rumoured 'bringer of death'. But after all that happened, Carol could see that she was just a desperate, kind and suffering woman, hiding behind her tough exterior and bullets. Maybe in truth, she was just a despondent person looking for companionship and found none, for the people feared her presense.

"I could hear you thinking from here, ya know?" Says Loui, fiery red hair swinging with every step she made. "I— well, since everyone's talking about you, and that you've saved thousan—"

"Hold up. I just had three bullets and a useless foot, dressed in a goddamned gown, and suddenly I'm king boss?"

"Well, that's what Dale—"

"Dale? Dale Horvath?"

"Well, yes—"

"Is- do you have a blonde girl with green eyes and a shitty attitude with you, too? And a big, snotty, white dog?"

"I don't know about the attitude, but I think that's Amy and Opium you're talking ab—"

"And an Asian who's always wearing a ball cap? And a tall man with peach fuzz and gray eyes?"

"..Glenn and Jordan? Yes—"

"And an emotionally deprived redneck with a tattoo thing going on?"

"—Daryl, you mean."

Louise was panting, throttling the woman as she internally screamed, picking her up and pinning her in a tight hug. Carol was annoyed by how she just cut her off everytime, but instantly forgave the woman after she shook her hand fervently, her smile showing through the edges of her mask.

"L-loui..?"

The red haired woman whipped around so fast she sent Carol tumbling away, eyes widening as Amy stood there, Opium by her side and tears streaking down her face, hands clutching the soft fabric of her sweater. "Amy..oh, God, Amy!" She cried out, when the smaller Reid tackled her sister, sobbing into her soft red hair. "Louise.. Louise.." she sniffled, holding her sister like a lifeline as she cried, snot and God-knows-what flying into her hair. "What's up with the mask?" She looked up into Louise's masked eyes, green eyes bloodshot and still producing tears. "What's wrong with it? It's pimp!" Jordan claimed from where he was leaning beside a RV, his look no worse for wear.

"What 'th hell, chink? I was—"

Daryl cut himself off, smirking in that smug, small smile of his, and the other people save for the three had their jaws touching the ground, making Louise smile back in response. "Jesus, Daryl. You look like shit." She stood, clapping him on the shoulder. "Well, I could say 'th same fer ya." He dropped the smile as he saw the sleeve of her shirt rode up, revealing the glint of silver tha came after her glove, indicating her demise to get to them. "'Wha? Ya a fucken terminator now?" He hissed, and Louise pulled away, tugging down the dark, gritty sleeve down with her other—normal— arm, looking around at the judging stares the other people from their group gave her, curling into herself.

This was one of the reasons she didn't want to find them again.

"It's nothing."

"Nothing 'ma ass."

"What the hell happened?" Glenn suddenly popped out from nowhere, his stupid ball cap still on his fucking head, looking every bit like when he left for Georgia. A built, brunette man stepped out from the throng of people, aiming the shotgun at the red haired mask-wearer.

Shane.

And in a flash, Louise drew out her revolver and aimed it at Shane, eyes raking the crowd for any signs of Camille Stephens, her hands shaking as she held the gun tightly. "Reid." He said, smiling as he cocked his shotgun and shot at her, hitting her straight in her shoulder, her prosthetic being harshly severed off, leaving her wide eyed and bleeding, the gun shaking in her other hand. The others shrieked, some of the women steering the children away, Sophia looking every bit disappointed.

"You freak."

"Is.. is that how you see me?" She breathed, looking at Glenn, at Jordan, at Daryl, taking in the look of horror etched upon their faces. "No?" she utters with a choked laugh, the fiery blue orbs behind her mask burning harshly.

"Why did you lie to us, Louise?" Glenn's brown eyes were disappointed and down cast, and Louise bit her lip. "I didn't lie. I kept it a secret." She retorted, and Amy started backing away from her, unnerved by her eerie blue eyes.

"I kept it a secret. Because if you knew, would you have left me?"

"Yes, we would've. But not without you."

"You always were the stubborn one, Plaines. For your lives.. it was my arm and leg, and that's okay."

"What are you talking about, Reid?"

"Equivalent trade. Is not so equal, after all."

"Three lives.. in exchange of me living as a goddamn time bomb, in exchange for me living my life in a hell I created..?" She closed her eyes, letting the gun drop to the ground as she sobbed, rembering exactly why she was living this life. "And because I condemned my twin to Hell?" She remembers vaguely of her and Joi's life together, it was enough to drive her mad like she already is. Shane stood before her and pushed her back, sending her body down on the ground with a thud as blood seeped through her arm like a faucet, leaving her paler and paler with every passing minute.

"I don't want to remember her. I—" Louise's eyes rolled to the high heavens as she dropped to the hard ground, though intercepted by Daryl catching her, her, cold, lithe body shaking as she still bled, convulsing in short bursts. "Shit. Yer okay, yer okay.." he muttered as he lifted himself up, looking at Jordan. "Alright." The man with sandy blonde hair made his way to Daryl's tent, opening the flap to make Daryl step in and lay Louise's exhausted body down the hard but warm covers, making her groan from the contact.

"I'm sorry.." she muttered, opening her eyes, the mask obscuring them from seeing her bloody face. "God, there's so much blood.." Glenn was there in an instant, too, taking off Louise's mask as she whimpered painfully. "I'm.. so, so sorry.. I didn't want to.. wanted to let you live," she choked, inhaling sharply, as if fighting for each of her breaths, back arching with pain.

"Amy.. t-tell A-amy.. th—that I love h-her..."

"Louise.." Jordan held her hand as she writhed and tossed, and Daryl was wiping the blood away from her features, finally seeing that familiar face, though it made his heart wrench as he saw it contorted into a look that he has always seen, a look of a tortured soul.

A look he so shared.

After a day, Louise was declared dead.

They didn't bury her. Nor did they burn her. They had no time, because the shots from the latter day brought in the walkers and they had to leave her behind. Though they took her bag, filled with her researches and ingredients for the Eximius, Daryl had been the only one to tell them that he would not leave her.

"She's dead, Daryl." Jordan had said, coldly, staying strong for his bestfriend that fateful day.

Glenn was torn in half, tears cascading down his face as he clutched Amy close, watching from the back of the RV as Louise's body grow smaller and smaller,until it was just a small speck dotted with orange and red, reanimated corpses not even giving her a second glance. Who would want an artificial leg, Daryl muses, even though his heart was breaking. He didn't know why he felt strongly about the woman who did inhumane things to him, almost killed him in the process, but always maintained a jolly tune and a warm smile that seems to pull him away from the edge of the unknown, with her clipboards and strange looks, what he felt whenever she comes in with her face pulled into a frown, her large thermos of coffee in hand, dark rimmes glasses almost falling off her nose. Then, she'd sleep on her chair, but wakes up a few minutes later to walk over his glass container, eyes half lidded as she presses herself against the glass, muttering soft prayers as the glass brought her coolness. And then she'd sleep peacefully.

But as Daryl saw her from his bike, she looked haunted and still in pain, no matter what Dale said, she had brought her pain with her in Hell. With no chance of redemption, no chance of ever loving, once more.

Amy slept fitfully ever since. She had been in and out of a suicidal state, her once long blonde hair cropped short. Now, Jordan only sees her every time Shane calls out for a meeting or only to eat, with Opium faithful by her side, his once stark white fur now a mangy grey, baring his teeth at every mention of Louise's name, or every time they go near Amy with so much as an advice she sourly doesn't need. Shane was not even sorry for what he did, but Louise wouldnt like it if they killed in her name. Death laced every eye, blood tainted every soul, malice streaked every face. Louise thought wrong, for once. The world they once had held the beauty, the peace everyone so longed for in this new world, the innocence of every child born, the sweet, sweet smiles everyone would share.

It held the freedom they so longed for, it was the untouched song they once sang.

Jordan looked up, sighing as he only saw the begginings of a storm. Louise sang a broken melody, from the start, he mused before going back to his and Daryl's task, grey eyes broken.

-  
Hurts.

"Well, what can you do about it, son?"

"I-i think I can restart her heart and brain, but I-I don't know if-if she can take it in her condition, she-she might loose her memories.. s-she might not come-come alive,"

"Do what you can, son."

"O-of course, sir.."

"We've got to save this woman,"

"Y-yes, sir!"

Hurts too much.

"Here goes.."

AHHHHHHH! NO, NO! IT HURTS, PLEASE, PLEASE STOP!

A clattering of something metal can be heard.

"Sir, she's not responding to-to anything!"

"SHUT UP, AND DO IT!"

"B-but..Yes, Ms. Stephens,"

It started again. Red, just red.. everywhere. There were flashes of blue, but red.. so much.. red. Her head hurt, like someone was electrocuting it, sucking all of her energy away.

"We got a heartbeat, sir! Jacy, hook her up,"

Pain is gone?

"Sweetheart, can you open your eyes for me?"

I'll try.. I'll try..

"Come on, dear.."

I can't, it hurts too much, please just leave me to die.. please, please, it hurts too much, y-you don't understand, it's tearing me apart, it's eating me, it's condemning me.. it pains me.

"Don't worry, you're fine now. You're safe, you're going to be okay,"

I'll never be okay. Never. Just imperfect. An imperfect little sin. I'm not going to be fine. I'm going to die. I'm going to die. No. NO. NO!

"Just wake up,"

I'm trying.. I'm trying.. but they don't want me to. They want me for themselves. They said I've been a bad person.

Cobalt blue eyes opened, blurry as she saw a man well within his late thirties, a charming smile on his face. "Hello." He started, pushing back the nameless woman's fiery red hair and earning a dirty look, teeth bared, but she was not moving. "Do you remember who you are?" His gray eyes briefly reminded her of someone, but she quickly cast the thought aside, taking to glare at the man and the blonde behind him who was really smiling, her hands intertwined in her hair. Looking down, the woman discovered that she was wearing a hospital gown and she pulled her knees up a little.

"Gah!" She yelled as she saw a glimpse of her metal leg, reaching her right hand—

"WHERE THE FUCK—"

"Easy.. Milton here will design you a new one,"

The mysterious woman immediately closed off, after that, sending blue eyed glares to the other arm, which was very, very odd, because she had this tattoo thing, and it freaked her out. "Say, do you remember anything?" He asked again, and the woman behind him giggled ruthlessly as she shook her head no, eyebrows scrunched in confusion.

"No worries," the man chuckled, moving to pat her head, but she quickly intercepted it with her good hand, twisting it so the limb wouldn't reach her. "Fiesty." He retracted his hand, still smiling. "Well, now, your name will be—"

"Maxene." The blonde cut him off, a sick smile on her face. "Maxene Snow." She continued, manic glee etching her face.

One other man with glasses helped her stand up, leading her to the door as the blonde and the charming brunette walked. The man with grey eyes smiled widely, opening the oak double doors that stood proudly infront of her.

"Welcome to Woodbury."

Maxene Snow stood, eyes narrowed and body slack, watching everyone with beady eyes.

"I'm the Governor."

Maxene frowned, but the Governor sighed and waved over a man with a crazy smile and a fake hand, who trotted over like a loyal puppy and nodded to the Governor, who leaned in and whispered something that sent the man's smile downwards and he shrugged, looking over to the woman. "'M Merle Dixon."

This strikes her.

Dixon? She knows she's heard that last name before, but where?

"Ah, c'mon, Milty 'ere needs ta take yer measurements so 'e can make yer arm."

The girl with fiery red hair nods passively, looking at the Governor with hard eyes and lips tight, "Make yourself at home, now." He smiles and the blonde beside him also smiles, her eyes glinting with greed. When Maxene finally finds her voice, she smiles also, a dangerous, half-assed smile that sent shivers down the Governor's spine. "Yes, Governor." She replies in a monotone before following Milton and Merle, eyes dull. The brunette man smiles as he puts his hands on his hips, one finger stroking the cold metal of his Beretta.

He had seen her in the middle of the road, being dragged by one of the biters, oddly enough, her face so pale and so dead, and Camille had been with him, and she almost keeled over with the sight of the positively dead woman with such fiery red hair, making him stop his car and collect the girl. His blonde companion said that she was once the best agent in the history of agents, straight from the bloodline of Anna Rivers, a genius in coding and mutating DNA, and Simoun Reid, the best man in weaponry and assasinations, who took over Anna when she ultimately left, the rumours of a child driving her out of her job, her reputation. And here she was, the offspring of two of the most intelligent and deadly people in the world, practically at his doorstep. Camille had wanted her immediately under her power, but she feared that the woman will kill her when she finally wakes up, being the person who ordered her and her twin, Joi, dead. But Milton calculated her chances of being revived again, since she hadn't turned in the past week that they had her under lock and chain, until Milton discovered a way to possibly—effectively— revive her. And they did, but she lost all of her recent memories, and it was more good than bad for them.

"So.. what's your name, again?"

Milton pushed up his glasses once more, stretching the tape measure on the redhead's left arm, so he could send the measurements to Javerr, their local mechanic. "Maxene Snow, or so they say," the woman grunted, giving him and Dixon wary looks that was far from meek and submissive, like the Governor said she would be. She was in every way feral and volatile, like the way she had jumped on Martinez earlier because he made a rude remark on her missing arm. Barely made it alive, that stupid spic. She was twitchy and everything Merle had said about his sibling, but the woman did not look like him at all.

"It's nice,"

"What?"

"Your name—I mean, it's nice."

She grunted once more.

"It suits you."

She snapped him a look that meant business, her lips thin and tight. "I'm sorry, it's just— I'm nervous." Milton pulled the tape measure back towards himself, writing down the measurements on a small leather notebook. Maxene tilted her head, red hair spilling from her temporary ponytail and falling down in gentle curls that seemed so out of place with her face and aura. "Ey, Milty! Stop pussyfootin' 'an get on 'wit it!" The redneck hooted from the far corner of the room, drinking from a bottle of whiskey. Maxene nudged him, urging him to finish his job. "Alright, well.. I'm finished, the arm will probably finished by dawn. Javerr's fast."

"Okay." The woman all but whispered, standing up from the stool she was on and rolling her shoulders, tossing her hair back. "Would you like me to escort you to your apartment?" He said, packing up his things and pulling them close to his plaid-clad chest, a small smile on his freckled face. "Whoo! Milty's scorin' sum pussy 'wit his 'formal' science shit!" Merle cajoled yet again, and somehow, Timmy had made it in there, in his hand the same bottle Merle was drinking in, a sleazy smile on his face.

"Shut up, ya dumb wop!" Maxene's voice took on a very deep accent, her eyes darkening to an eerie black. "Whoa, ginger. 'M just praisin' Milton 'ere." Merle smiled cockily, but the smile faltered as a very sharp scalpel hit the board beside his head, with Maxene breathing heavily a good twenty feet away. "Well, 's not funny." She growled, straightening herself up and walking towards the door, her lips pulled tight into a frown. Milton of course, followed her like a lost puppy, his brown eyes down cast as he trailed along the cement ground, clearing his throat as they reached building C. "Well, you stay here—" he opened his little notebook, clearing his throat nervously. "—at building C, apartment number.. 43," she nodded and headed on, her bare feet slapping against the slightly damp asphalt, blue eyes intense. She turned around and gave him a small, barely-there smile, and suddenly, her hair suited her face.

"Thanks, Milton."

"—uh, o-o.. okay.." he said, but the woman was already gone, entering the building. Milton smiled, nodding to himself. He guessed Max wasn't really that bad.

**\- [P.S. Maxene Snow is.. yes, she's Louise. I know, I know.. double amnesia?! FUCK DAT SHIT, I WRITE THIS, SO SHUT YOUR CAKE-HOLE.]**

Daryl groaned as he tossed and writhed in the jumble of his sleeping bag, the stillness of his surroundings too unnerving. It had been a week since they lost her, and it was taking Jordan and Amy father and farther away, both deteriorating from sadness. In the past week, it had been hell for all of them, but Daryl likes to think he had it hard. The redneck stood up, reaching for her bag, pulling out the translucent liquid and a syringe, getting one millimiter of it. Inhaling deeply, he pressed the tip of the needle in the junction of his arm, before he pushed it all in, not even flinching as he injected the serum to himself. He just felt so tired, loosing her and his brother in a span of a month, and though he wouldn't admit it, he missed the snorting laughter of his scientist. Sophia took to the ginger and was saddened ever since she died, but Opium and Amy was always there for her, and so was Carl. Daryl smiled. He lost his brother and friend, but Grimes had his family and bestfriend back, and Daryl just had to think this was a big middle finger from the man upstairs. Blood seeped out from where he just removed the needle and he pressed his fingers to it, stemming the bleeding. This was also a problem. It seemed that Eximius was reversing, and the CDC had been a fucking bust. The doctor was nuts, he had an AI that is so much under developed, unlike VIRSA, bit there had been booze, and thank God, he didn't jump anybody. He tends to get confident when drunk. The hunter scoffs as he wipes the blood that was also seeping out from his nose, remembering when she had tried smoking, and he taught her how to make smoke rings, but only, hers came out like retarded circles, and she was proud, nonetheless. He laid back down his sleeping bag, remembering roses and peppermint, groggy eyes and shared cancer sticks. He so damn wanted a few smokes right now. Shifting to lay on his side, his eyes fell on the mask she had donned that day when he finally saw her again after hopeless waiting, her metal limbs and dying features. Why did she hide herself, and mostly, why did she lie about New York to them? Too fucking bad, he thought distastefully, she's dead now. He feels a little okay now, but seriously, how,can he feel fine in this situation they're in? Still on the road, with their asses hanging out like some lily white prize, with people wanting to get the damn gun and shoot themselves with it. Oh, and that Rick Grimes person who always points his Python on his head.

Something shuffles, and before the figure could come nearer Daryl's tent, he already has his crossbow loaded and ready, the flap open and the tip of the bolt touching Jordan's nose. The grey-eyed man barely flinches, blinking twice. "Wha' 'th fuck, man?" Daryl growls, slowly pulling the crossbow down to rest in the crook of his arm. "I need to talk to you." He stated indifferently, and Daryl nods, letting him into his tent.

"She's alive," he says as soon as he settles himself down, a teary smile on hs face. "No. She's dead, Jordan. Ya said so yerself." Daryl retaliates, sitting away from the man as Jordan sniffles, pulling his knees up close to his chest. "Glenn hates her, you know. For lying to us." He mutters, that honest to God smile still on his face. "I 'don fucken care no more, Plaines. Wha's dead 's dead. Wha's past 's past." Daryl speaks gruffly, furrowing his eyebrows.

"I've tried to hold on, man. I tried to forgive.."

"Fucking chick-flick moments, man."

Daryl shooes Jordan out his tent with a punch square to the face, that seemed to snap him out of his daydream, punching the redneck hard in revenge. Daryl admitted to himself that it felt good, lashing out to someone who knew him, who fought him back. He lies back down again, in his hand the note she left for the four of them, but he couldn't lift his hand up.

It was numb.

Daryl has to remind himself that Dixons don't cry.

-

"Gravity.."

Max sat there amidst the clutter of books and weaponry, blue eyes down cast as she held a Colt Diamondback that Milton said belonged to her, the soft words of John Mayers tinkling in the background. It had been two days here, and she had her arm, she had a friend, and she'd also like to think she has a home here.

"...Is working against me. And gravity wants to bring me down.." she hummed along, running a metal finger along the cold ridge of the sleek revolver, eyes drifting close as she layed back down on her bed, feet still planted on the ground. "—uh, Max? I got you some food, uhm, well.." Milton's voice sounded through the door riddled with throwing knives, and Max grunted loud enough to let him hear. In Max talk, a grunt would usually mean 'piss off' or 'come the fuck in'. So Milton entered, daring himself to face the wrath of the impulsive redhead. "What now?" She said morosely, sitting up from her position on the bed, and setting her revolver aside before looking at him with questioning blue eyes. "Well, first off, food. Secondly, Merle needs you up front," the buttoned up man said professionaly, clumsily dodging every clutter in her room. "What is it?" She muttered, standing up and leaning over to her player, a gift from the Governor.

"—Oh I'll never know what makes this man with all the love that his heart can stand, dream of ways to throw it all away—" the velvety voice of Mayers sent Milton smiling, for this was one of his favorite songs that he let play in his lab. "It's peaches, some jerky and a thermos of coffee." This made the woman chuckle slightly, going after the red thermos almost immediately.

"Oh..Gravity is working against me, and gravity wants to bring me down..."

"You like John Mayers?" Milton asked.

"Don't really remember. But I like his voice." Max replies, forking through the peaches as she hummed.

"Oh, yes. Amnesia,"

Milton smiled tightly as she put away the food and waded through the throng of books and clothing to get to a small shelf, reaching out to get a book, which she probably borrowed from the Museum. "Neuro-reengineering?" Milton asked, tilting his head. The redhead just nodded, her metal hand reaching out to flip the book open, to a page where genetic mutations were the topic, her messy hand writings lacing the pages in scribbled formulas and questions, but what struck him was how brilliant she was with this.

"You think I could spend my off times in the lab?" She said quietly.

"If the Governor permits you so." Milton explains.

"—Oh twice as much.." they stand there for a few more minutes, with Milton fidgeting with his buttons and Max putting away her book. The song covers them like a thick, warm blanket, and Milton finds himself singing so quietly before he knows it.

"Ain't twice as good, and can't sustain like a one half could, It's wanting more That's gonna send me to my knees.." This line was sang by Max as she looked out the window and threw out some cigarette butts, undoubtly left there by Merle when he came along to watch Javerr connect Max's nerves with the wiring. "Would you like to regain your memories? Is that why your room is filled with books in Genetics and brain functions?" Asks Milton, as John Mayers sings some of the last lines in the song. "I don't know,"

"Oh gravity, stay the hell away from me," Max closes the window, reddish-brown eyelashes fluttering as dust surrounded her.

"And gravity has taken better men than me.." She intoned, cutting off the last notes of Gravity and walking out, leaving Milton to deal with himself.

Max makes her way to the front barricades, her hair flopping with every move and her eyes unfocused. Slim hands holsters her Colt, the feel of the slight weight of the gun a unfamiliar welcome. Merle is standing at the top of one of the upturned buses, in his hand an awesome looking sniper rifle, his blue eyes grinning. "Maxie! Ey, ey!" He hollers, and Max rolls her eyes, climbing up the barricade with ease. Martinez is keeping his careful distance with her, his eyes downcast as Merle hands her the rifle, motioning to the small herd of walkers. "Show me whatcha got." He smirks, and Max grunts and positions the butt of the gun against her shoulder, her metal hand cupping at the neck, while her other hand rested against the handle, finger hovering against the trigger. She straightened her pose, feet apart and shoulders lax, eyes trained on the target. "Scopes' shitty." She mutters as she completely forgoes the scope, but still keeping her cheek pressed on the gun.

Bang!

One.

Bang!

Miss.

Bang!

Miss.

"Ya gotta do better than 'tha, Annie."

"Shut up, redneck."

She readjusts the gun, trying to remember how to shoot. Exhaling, she closes her eyes and then opens them, pupils narrowed into dark slits.

Bang!

Two.

Bang!

Three.

Bang!

Four.

After a few more rounds, the last fleshbag fell down, a bullethole directly in between its eyes, like a big, neon sign. "Not too bad, Fanta Head." Merle whistles in appreciation, but Max pulls the gun away from her body, glaring deeply at the older man. She snarled as he smiled at her suggestively, and before she could lunge for his throat, the Governor was there, his arms folded on his chest. "Goodafternoon, men and Maxene," he says strictly, his grey eyes boring into Merle's blue ones. "That was nice shooting skills you got there, lass." Max just grunts non-commitaly, shoving her hands inside her yellow hoody. Timmy and Cross walks into the scene and the small Asian man leans in to whisper in the Governor's ear, and whatever they told him sent him in a state of panic, whatsoever. Max sweeps past them, hopping down to leave, not minding the frantic voice the Governor took on as he called for her. Really, she don't care, and as much as she's freaking out that there's walking corpses, she can't bring herself t give a hoot and a half about these people, even if they did save her. Call her an ingrate, but she just doesn't.

-  
He's been tracking that sonuvabitch for days now. He's not an impatient hunter, and it's one of the good things that his Pa taught him. He's a very patient predator, though he doesn't like the fact that he's slowly torturing the poor thing, but food is food. You won't come along some fancy caviar in this now world, and they'd be damned if they spot some beef jerky. Opium was contented with his own catches, and that's why Daryl brought him along to every hunt. That, and Sophia's missing. The redneck had been moving rivers and mountains, just to find that little girl for Carol. Not that he really cares about the older woman, but it's because this is a child, she can barely understand the fuckery that was their environment, and surely she can't really process how to get back to the highway with two walkers right behind her tail. But Carol had been an ungrateful bitch, for telling Rick off like that. She may have been the girl's mother, but they aren't putting her up the fence to get her ass eaten, nor were they urging her to clean their clothes and pamper for them like that bitch Lori. So now, Daryl's grateful to be away for awhile, with just him and nature, a loyal dog trotting by his back, and a string full of squirrels to bring home.

He's been keeping track of days. Just to celebrate Louise's birthday, which was coming up next month. Maybe he and Amy were really the ones who looked forward to the occasion, and the young blonde tells him she wants to go back to where she died and bring her some coffee, because she did love coffee. Jordan started smoking really hard, and he even stole Daryl's stash inside his saddle bags. He never sees the man now without a cigarette, and it's starting to scare the kids. Glenn is hooking up with that farmer's daughter, and if he knows what's best for himself, he won't get too involved with people that will most likely catch you with your pants down your ankles and have a shotgun-shell shot hole on your forehead. The hunter grunts as he moves quietly against a tree, rounding it to get to the other side where the buck was grazing, crossbow up in the ready as he exhales, letting his walls down, and focusing solely on the deer.

As always, he didn't hesitate to pull the trigger.

He comes back to the fold three hours after he bags his majestic sonuvabitch, not even a smile on his shower-deprived face. But on his schedule, it's time to go looking for Sophia again. He doesn't like working with others, he doesn't play well with others, and they're just going to be in the way in his little rendesvouz. So he drops off Bambi, grunts at Carol because she always insists cleaning the damn thing, clean his bolts, re-strings his crossbow, and then, he gets the hell outta there. If he'd choose between Glenn talking, or Amy talking, or.. Jordan, he'd rather board a plane to the Himalayas.

He set out without so much as a squeak, footsteps thundering to him. As he re-entered the forest yet again, he felt himself relax and become alert at the same time, icy blue eyes tinted with curiousness. As he casually walked along the marshy grass of the forest, he pondered about his situation right now. The redneck flattened a tattooed hand on the rough bark of a tree, closing his eyes and concentrating, remembering how Louise had told him on how to control his powers.

_"Feel it like water.. slipping through your fingers.." a serious redhead said, taking Daryl's hand in her own, cupping them. The redneck closed his eyes, doing just what she said._

_"Feel it like the air you breathe in, a daily, familiar task.."_

_"No shit,"_

_"Shut up and do it."_

_And so he did. He felt electricity course through his veins in an unfamiliar but welcomed manner, making him shiver in anticipation. Blue lines slid up his active arm, lighting up beautifully. He heard Louise's breath hitch as she hefted the hand to a nearby piece of metal, and with no doubt, she was fangirling inside because her experiment was working. But when his hand didn't touch metal, his eyes flew open, only to find his own breath catching as his gaze fell on Louise, who was smiling blissfully as she held his hand in hers, blue eyes focused only on his, the light illuminating her face in a beautiful way, dark red-brown lashes blinking once._

_"I did it." She whispered._

_Daryl was taken aback. Her smile was yet to widen, but right now, he couldn't think of anywhere else to be, but right here,standing with her, just.. watching her determined, grateful face. "You're the first that's survived.. and.. that's a milestone," she starts, the smile dropping into something warm, as she put Daryl's hand to rest on a table._

_"Thank you. And sorry."_

_Daryl felt a huge wave of pain run through his body as the table he touched materialized into water, electric sparks littering the once solid matter. Louise laughed as it happened, cooing and praising him and herself. Daryl couldn't not think about how fucking close she was, her nose merely inches away from his own that their breaths were mingling. She pulled him in close and ducked her head, kissing his neck instead of his mouth, muttering thank yous in different dialects. Her hands wrapped around his neck and Daryl flinched, hard._

_"Sorry!" She gasped, whipping away from the man. Apparently, she realizes that she's the reason(well, her abruptness was the real reason) that caused Daryl to react that way, and it made her uneasy, being the subject of someone's queasiness. "Whatever, kid. Go on 'n do yer scientist shit." He snaps with a glare that he didn't mean, but it spurs the woman, smiling micheviously as she picks up her clipboard, nods and walks away._

_That was the first time he noticed that she was sick./_

_He smiles as the tree was set on fire, blue licking up the bark quickly, leaving only ashes behind it until it was nothing but dust. He gathered his hand back, opening his eyes and then continuing on his treck, crossbow slung carefully across his back._

-

Glenn is officially bummed. A month of staying here at the ol' Greene farm, and yeah, he may have fucked the farmer's daughter and she may think that they got something blooming in between, but honest to God, sometimes, the woman's a goddamned bipolar. Yes, she's beautiful, she's hot, even. But Glenn reckons he can't handle the shit that is her mood swings. And for a second, the Asian feared he might have knocked pretty girl-Zorro up.

A lot of things came tumbling down on his rag tag group like Donkey Kong's barrels, and one of those is that Lori's pregnant, and it might be Shane's, Rick's flipping shit with Hershel, Carl's shot(he's okay now, maybe), Sophia's still missing, Jordan is smoking a joint, Amy's too helpful, there's a Shane-slash-Rick feud that makes Amy want to slash(fangirls, pshh) them, Dale is dead, Shane's a killer(Glenn thinks), there's a mole in the hole(A.K.A Randall), Lori is PREGNANT, and Oh, God, Louise's birthday is coming up.

While we're at the topic of problems, Lori wants the Asian to go get abortion pills, and Glenn said yes and hugged her.

Now he's confused. When he panics, does he fuck someone, or agree to go get kid-killin' meds? Because seriously, he can't keep on living with his own damn circumstances. Maggie is with him, her face contorted into something awful as she storms into the drug store they had their exploit in, her brown(God, she smells good.) hair flopping gracefully with every move.

"You know, I don't know why you keep letting them push you over,"

Huh?

"I mean, yeah, you're the 'runner' for the group, but that doesn't mean that you follow them with every beck and call,"

What the hell..?

"Gimme the list,"

Give her the list, dumbass. Stupid! No, wrong! "Abortion.. pills?" She gasps, looking at Glenn with wide, unbelieving eyes that just make him wanna run out and swan dive towards a herd of walkers. But instead of bitch-slapping him, she puts on a mask of indifference, walking over to the far back of the pharmacy and brutally ripping off the abortion pills off the shelf, cursing the high heavens. But before she could finish getting them a walker had lunged towards her and she gave an ear piercing scream, the walker's teeth just an inch away from her face.

"Magg—"

"Move, sushi. "

A bullet whipped against his ear with a 'woosh', making him shiver in horror. But it got the deed done as the walker fell, with a bullet lodged perfectly between its eyes. Maggie dropped the pills and cried, launching herself in Glenn's arms. "Hey, thanks—"

He turned around and saw the most bluest eyes that rivaled Daryl's, fiery red framing her pale face, the blank look that was so.. familiar. "Louise?" Glenn whispered. The woman gave him a look of distaste, moving over to move the walker's body and plucking off a box of cigarettes from the shelf, sparing a glance at the two as she lit the sweet, paper wrapped relief with a beautiful silver zippo. Pink chapped lips sucked at the cigarette, a snide smile lacing those lips as she blew smoke in quite unimpressive circles. "Reid? Louise.. Reid?" Glenn asked yet again, pulling Maggie off to survey the taller person in scrutiny. She reached a hand to push away her red curls, and Glenn fainted at the sight of bare metal.

Glenn fainted literally.

Max scowled as the small Asian dude fell forward, eyes rolling to the back of his head. That wasn't the thing that made the redhead go sour, it was her reaction. Her hands reached out to catch him in her arms, almost with a gentle something that made her shiver uncomfortably. The brunette was glaring, and Max couldn't find the time to argue with her especially when there's a fifty something pound of rice balls in her arms. She glared back, and Jesus H, this woman is fucking stupid. "..you have a fucken vehicle with ya, honey?" She spat, and the brunette jumped as if remembering that yes, they had to get back. So she pocketed her cigarettes and spewed out the one in her mouth, stomping it with the sole of her boot.

Unfortunately, they just had horses.

Max looked at the huge mare, gulping in horror. "Uh.." she muttered, shifting the Asian man in her arms and almost jumping to the high heavens when the horse lifted its head and neighed, beady brown eyes looking at Max's clear blue ones, as if taunting her. The brunette looked at her funny and mounted her horse, laughing when she finally realized her demise. "You're scared!" She jarred, snorting as the woman glared indignantly, pouting in a rage. Max gathered her wits and mounted the brown horse, almost crying when it trotted before she could settle the dark-haired man before her. "Her name's Nellie," the brunette, of course thought this particular wisdom will help her as she palmed the reigns, whistling quietly to make the horse move. Nellie trotted at first, and good Lord, it was awkward having something bobbing between her legs. "Where's your camp?" Max said almost good naturedly as she blinked at the woman who seemed to be weighing her options.

"Just a road aways, in that farm there." She muttered indifferently as she let her horse gallop, hooves clacking against the concrete, almost like a call of a challenge to Max. So she grunted and hefted the Asian in a much more steerable manner, whipping the reigns of Nellie and swallowing the possibility of her dying on a goddamned horse. "Ya!" She hollered and Nellie ran, her long brown mane whipping against the wind like Max's fiery red hair, and the redhead's grip on the reign was like a vice as the mare ran, and she chuckled mercilessly as she galloped past the brunette, a huge grin on her face. "Hah.." she scoffed as she tugged on Nellie's reigns, making her face the brunette who was also smiling, her brown hair displaying her face beautifully. "Nice one, Red," she said, stopping her mare so it would trot beside Max's as they finally made their way towards the farm. Maggie looked at the woman with such fire in her eyes, wondering who she was, and why did Glenn faint the sight of her.

Max was exhilirated as her horse still trotted, entering the green, green pasture and she smiled, for the first time in a month, an honest to God smile. She knew this feeling, she just.. knew it.

/"LUCY! DON'T—I'M FALLING OFF THE GODDAMNED HORS—"

"JOI! God, Joi! Oh, God..HAHA!"

"Whatchu laughing at, jackass? A girl with sunset red hair all but screamed as her horse bucked, almost throwing her off and she held on for dear life, her twin laughing her ass off as she clutched her stomach, eyes bulging. "YEEE-HAW! Ride 'em, cowgirl!" She hollered, smiling as she recovered from her laughing fit, reaching out to pet the beautiful stallion as she cooed softly, hands settling themselves on the nuzzle of the white horse. "It's 'cuz ya had ta pick a cliché horsey, J." The darker twin muttered and the lighter scoffed and immediately dismounted the horse. "She's pretttty, ain't she?" Lucy said in her dark Aussie brogue and Joi looked at her sister, marvelling at her beautiful face and the lighter one also lit up, leaning in to kiss Lucy's cheek. The paler girl blushed and looked at her with a glare that Joi could sell to a well-known weapons company, and it'd win wars and shit.

"I love ya, L."

"I've always lov—"/

Max shrieked as she clutched her head, and the horse immediately took action and pranced about, making the Asian man fall and the woman mounting her was screaming bloody hell, eyes wide and crazed as her metal hand all but tore out her hair, tears forming in her eyes. Memories.. she was regaining them but God, it hurt too much. The brunette stopped and dismounted her horse in a frenzy to get to the shrieking redhead, Nellie being spooked and spurred on and the woman fell, clutching herself as if someone were about to hit her, breaking down into incoherent rambles and sobs.

Blood seeped down her nose as she remembers, remembers too much.

Daryl was the first to hear the commotion and he ran for it, crossbow up and loaded. Maggie was there, freaking herself out as she tended to the horse, the screaming fucker and the chink, and dear Lord, this woman was darn good at multi tasking. Daryl could finally see why Glenn picked this girl. Rick, Shane and T-Dog immediately followed, shotguns(or rifle, pitchfork, torch) up in the ready. "The fuck?!" Shane demands and Rick looks like he was about to pull a bitch fit, his python whipped out and pointed at the writhing person who looked terribly in pain. Then, they noticed the blood. "HOLEE FUCK! Is that bit, Maggie?!" T-Dog said in a frantic voice, as Rick neared the bucking figure and he poked it with his gun, but there was just.. too much blood to even make out the face. The thing was now on its stomach, curling in on itself as it screamed, and hell, it looked like it hurt real bad. "What the hell are you looking at? HELP HER!" Maggie was still battling their crazy mare, her emerald orbs commanding as she tried to pull Nellie back down. T-Dog promptly obeyed, picking up the woman as she sobbed, but T-Dog cooed at the now revealed woman, her fiery red hair falling into bloody tendrils on his dark arms. "She's bleedin' too much!" Shane declared as they ran as fast as they can towards the house, Hershel already there and preparing his kit, his eyes focused solely on the woman. T-Dog set her down, and Daryl didn't know what overcame him but he brushed away her hair, only to reveal scared, or rather horrified and familiar dark blue eyes, and her hand—metal— hand grasped his wrist, breathing heavily. A ear bleeding shriek emitted from her mouth, and she let go of Daryl to thrash violently on the bed, holding her head once more. "GET OUT! GET OUT! OUT!!" She repeated over and over, back arching and legs flailing. "She's going into shock. Hold her down, now!" Daryl abandoned his crossbow and held her face, forcing her to look at him through those scared, wonderful blue eyes, tears streaking down her pale face. "Cut this shit out!" He hollered and the woman's eyes rolled to the back of her head and she slumped, the blood stopping all at once. "Tie her hands to the bed," Shane says, but he also notices how Rick looked as he looks at the woman. Jordan was there, in his hands all of Hershel's stuff, but he immediately dropped it as he saw her, biting his lip so hard, it drew blood. T-Dog left from being disgusted, covering his mouth and dragging an entering Carol away from the room.

"Daryl.. is-is that.."

Rick, Daryl and Jordan looked at each other, and Rick stumbled on his feet, catching himself and flattening a hand on the wall. "Louise." They said as one, and Shane finally caught on, cocking his shotgun and aiming at the still woman on the bed, his body shaking in fear. "SHE'S DEAD!.. I.. I saw-saw her..I killed her.." he sputtered as he moved back, shaking his head in stubborn disbelief.

"What?" Rick asked.

Shane looked at Rick through wide eyes and then turned and ran away, gasping in horror. He killed her himself. He saw with his own eyes, before the walkers came, he saw her breathing stop, heard her heartbeat stop, a small, ice pick embedded in her heart. So how..? He.. "SHANE!" It was Lori, panting as she ran towards him, looking every bit expectant as he stopped to look at her, malice in his eyes. "What—what happened in there?!" She hissed, prissing up for another one of her 'Queen Lori' speeches. "It was nothing," he said in a huff, cocking his gun and walking off, but the bitch. Just. Followed. So he quickened his pace, refraining himself from closing his eyes, because he saw her face, burned underneath his eyelids. And.. and he wanted it to stop. He killed her once.

He could kill her again.

Daryl watched as Rick'd gaze flitted from Shane's retreating form to him, confused and scared, as he holstered his gun. "Hershel.." he breathed, looking at the older man as Hershel wiped the blood away from her pale face, and he sighed, looking back at Rick. "If I'm correct, based by the reactions, she's suffering from Reid's 'Bleeding Effects'," he explained, and Jordan hissed sullenly, glaring at Daryl who seemed to be glued to his position and the redneck gulped, looking at the still person on the bed. Did God really hate him this much? Why did He do this, anyways? It's such a fuck-up, it's sick! Louise Reid is dead, dead, DEAD! Not sleeping in bed with blood war paint on, not breathing. But yet, who knew? Some kind of fuckery has happened yet again! This ain't right no more, man Daryl muses as he rounds the small bed and sits down on it, surveying her now calm face. "W-wait.. Reid? She's Louise Reid.." Rick says as he points to the unconcious woman, and Hershel jumps at this looking at Maggie who entered the room with tired eyes, who also laughed at the matter, rolling her eyes. "Word is, Louise died back in Atlanta, so she couldn't be this woman," she tells them matter-of-factly, wiping her hands on her jeans and Hershel nodded, smiling warmly. "Word is..?" Jordan repeats stupidly. "You see, Louise Reid has—had—been pretty well known during the Disaster." Maggie continued, looking out the window as if in thought, and Hershel sighed as he reached out to get an IV for the redheaded patient, injecting clear on her hand. He gave the translucent bag to Maggie for her to lift it up, and continued to tell the tale. "They said that she saved people, and what had happened had been her penance, so was loosing her limbs," he breathed, wrapping a hand on his daughter's bare shoulders, and without missing a beat, resumed his story. "Travelled all the way back to Atlanta, the poor girl. But they said she died, of blood loss or infection,"

"They?" Daryl asked gruffly.

"Vatos, gangs, travelling merchants, contract killers, still," Patricia, who was also in the room said quietly. "Word travels faster in this world, son." The old man says, leading his eldest out, and Patricia looked at them, then to the redhead, shaking her head. "Says she's living in this world to repay for what she's done," she mutters, folding her hands to rest on her lap as she stopped by the door frame. "She deserves to live." Her eyes steeled, the same steel it held ever since Shane came back without Otis.

"What she doesn't deserve is dying." And with that said, she turned around to leave. Jordan pinched the bridge of his nose, giving out an exasperated sigh as he squatted down, gray eyes clouded with haze. "God.. she's alive," the man with sandy blonde hair gasped out, and Daryl leaned against a wall, looking up on the ceiling with fervent curses lacing his mouth, not really believing what he heard and what he's seen. They may not believe that this woman was the person who damned them all to Hell, but Christ, this was Louise Reid.. in the flesh. Not at all there yet, but she's alive, and Daryl's as sure as the sky is blue that she is Louise.

"(Albanian)i ëmbël..(darling..)"

"What.. Louise? Louise.." Rick leaned beside Louise as she muttered as she convulsed gently on the bed, reaching out.. just reaching out. She kept muttering that one word, gradually increasing in volume before shouting an incomprihensible word, jerking off the bed and clutching Rick's hand, gasping heavily, her blood stained clothes marring Rick's clean plaids with grotesque, purple-red blood. "L-louise..?" He said carefully, but the woman just ignored him, looking straight towards the window.

"Ha-have you.. seen a g-girl.. with sunset red hair, b-blue eyes?" She stammered, pushing back her wild, dirty hair, standing up to scan the outside from the window. "Have y-you?" She said again, licking her chapped lips as she frantically paced.

"Louise?!" Amy burst from the door, panting as she practically pounced on the woman, Opium also jumped her, licking her face as they hit the ground, the lithe blonde sobbing on her sister's hair. "What the hell?! LET GO!" Louise pried Amy and the white dog away, scrambling as far as she could from them. "My name's Maxene! Maxene Snow!" She snarled, pushing them back as she glared.

"W-what? Louise.. you're.. you're my sister,"

"I don't have a sister,"

"Louise—"

"MAXENE!..Maxene.." she whispered, looking clear in the younger one's eyes. She looked at blonde, hate and rage lacing her eyes. "L-louise.. I know you're Louise! B-because.. your tattoo! The little star, on your left hand! Just look!" She said desperately, and Louise looked at it and scoffed, advancing on the 16 year old and pinning her to a wall, hissing with horror and white, hot rage. "And y-you love coffee, and you always wear something gray, no matter what, and-and—" Amy was cut off as Louise slammed her fist beside her head, Jordan trying to pry the raging redhead off Amy.

"You think you know me, you little shit?! YOU FUCKING DONT!" Daryl looked up as his scientist hollered it at the top of her lungs, and he calmly walked over and pulled her off with one hand, sending those familiar chills down his spine, "Louise. Stop this," he shook her shoulders roughly, blue against blue, only, the other pair was weaker and confused. "I'm not Louise. Nobody here is Louise.." she stuttered as she laid her hands on his chest, pushing him off as her head stirred, her environment going blurred. "Your birthday is coming up," Amy said from Jordan's arms.

"I'm sorry, I just.. don't remember."

"What?" Daryl asked.

Louise looked up, biting her lip, before averting her gaze. She didn't reply. That was enough words for one day. "Tell us," Jordan persisted, but a smile etched itself on his lips as he finally caught her red handed. "You forgot." He accused, pointing at her with a finger.

"You were revived, aren't you? That explains the burn marks on your nape. And the new arm," he never misses.

"By who? Camille? Is Camille even alive? Oh- or maybe, maybe.."

"You don't know shit," She quaked, pushing Daryl off completely.

"You're right, we don't know shit. So mind explainin' things ta us?" Daryl butted in, putting his hands on his hips, a determined look on his face. Glenn took off his hat and looked around. Chaos. Rick was plastered almost comically against the wall, Daryl trying not to flip the fuck out, Amy crying in a flustered Jordan's arms. Louise— LOUISE?! "Lou—" Glenn rejoiced, but was quickly cut off by the redhead. "Hold up. Who the hell is this Louise?" She seemed royally miffed as she tugged at her soaked through grey hoodie, grumbling abouy everything she sees.

"Rick, I hear—"

"Get your bitch ass outta here!" Louise thundered, blue eyes shining with dark rage. Lori stepped back as she lifted a hand to cover her mouth, eyes widening before the woman before her. But before anyone could jump the gun, a literal gunshot could be heard over the still night and Louise winced, going from agressive to bat-crap crazy. "Oh, shit. They found me." She breathed, and then turned to Daryl, who was loading his crossbow in a snap, looking back at her with questioning eyes. "Who-who found you?"

"Rick— Wal-walkers—"

"Fleshheaps and them, eh?" The woman suddenly looked laid-back, propping herself up the wall as she lit a bloodied cigarette with her lighter, a sweet smile on her face. "If I were you people, i'd be scramming for my ass, 'cause that combo ain't exactly the most nicest." She blew smoke easily, looking up as she caught sight of beams of white light. "Yeah, you people better go," Shane suddenly bust through the door, panting heavily as he clutched his shoulder, a bullet clearly embedded in it. "Ooh, that must hurt," she jeered, folding her arms over her chest as her eyes slid close, her cigarette dangling dangerously from her lips.

"LET'S GO, PEOPLE!!" Rick yelled in that airy authority of his that sent his group mates scattering, obeying his command.

"Go on, I'll hold 'em off. They probably won't want to see other survivors besides them." Amy shook her head vigorously, taking a hard grip on her hand. "I can't loose you again, Louise.. you've al-already left me twice.." Louise, or Maxene smiled as she felt the others move frantically to escape, before kneeling down infront of the lithe blonde, reaching out to tenderly kiss her forehead. "Louise?" She whispered. "Louise doesn't exist anymore, sweetheart. She died, a long.. long time ago. But I know she still loves you." Max said, sincerity lacing her dark eyes as she hugged the girl close, whispering:

"May they always smile upon you,"

"Who's 'they'—"

"Go now," Max pushed the blonde away, winking at her before poking her head out of the window. "EY NUTJOB! IM OVER HERE!" She hollered in a cheery manner, waving at the people who were down below, making the last person left, Daryl, who looks at her with a blank expression on his face.

"I'm goin' wit ya, Lo—er, Max,"

"No, you aren't. You have nice people, and I have nice connections," she stated.

"Wha'? Nah, I'm comin' wit ya,"

"No—" she pulled out her gun, popping it open and putting some of her bullets in the revolver, "—I'm meeting up with you people," she clamped it right back, as she clenched her hand in a metal fist, a grin that Daryl knew only Louise had spreading through her face like wildfire. "Tell Rick to set the barn on fire, it'll attract some 'o the flesh heaps," she was climbing out the window, red hair glinting dully in the harsh moonlight. "Go to Macon. You'll find a small shack there, names Iridescent. Say you're sent by Fe," Daryl reached out to touch her, but she shook her head, ducking her shoulder from his hand. "The person you're looking for goes by 'Dr. Badass'." She then swiftly swept out, still in her bloody shirt, her eyes screaming Louise. "It's MAX! Not LOUISE!" She hollered as she ran in the open field, thundering commands at the still clobbering group mates of Daryl, her feet swift as the wind as she ducked, kicked, punched, shot. She is an enigma.

That was the last he's seen of her since.

[Three Weeks later]

Glenn was in watch, his eyes tired as that old rifle that belonged to Dale on his lap as he dozed off a little, but quickly snapped back awake as he heard a rustle amongst the treeline, he shot up, aiming the gun in the sound's general direction.

"Ey, Chink! Put the damn gun down," Thank the Lord it was Daryl with a buck slung over his shoulders, a happy Opium trotting behind his back with one of the redneck's saddle bags on his back, tongue lolling out of his mouth. "HEY DUMBASS! Your fuckin' car is blocking my post!" Glenn and all the others whipped to where they heard the shrill voice came from, and their eyes fell on a small girl, about 18, with long, messy ebony hair and the most darkest, soulless green eyes you could ever see, the palest skin that would rival Louise's. "YOUR FUCKING HONDA. IS. DWELLING. BESIDE. NO—INFRONT OF MY POST!" She yelled again, and Daryl had to muzzle her for her not to bring down them walkers. "Mmmf-pffsst!" She glared with those eyes that seemed so deep that Glenn could just drown in it. "Shut it, hoss." Shane, who was the one who was arguing with the petite girl, but was now just pressing himself up on the wall, carefully caressing his wound. When Daryl finally let go of the wild girl, she glared and heaved, pointing at the huge ex-cop with stubborn flare that seemed so alike to Louise's. "I oughta throttle you! Get your ugly-ass Honda offa my PROPERTY!" She finally thundered, and Shane scoffed, towering over the girl with his hulking frame, "Look, girlie. I ain't movin' my shit! So you better shut your cake-hole!" That's when the smal girl threw her fist out, which was seemingly a metal one, hitting Shane square in the mouth. "You get your bitch ass out, or I will, swear to Zelda, use my keyboards to smash your he—"

"That's enough, Bonnie."

Glenn dropped the fucking gun. What shit.. this is happening way too fast, but time stopped as the girl with the blackest hair smiled, and it seemed to bring out the light in her eyes. "Shut up, Maxene," she huffed, rolling her eyes as she glares some more at Shane, whom was finally convinced by Rick to move his car, albeit quite reluctantly, his injured arm cradled sweetly in between his stomach and chest. "Bat-shit crazy bitch," this statement made the woman all but fly on Shane, but Jordan caught her, manhandling her as she growled and snarled like a dog, teeth bared. "Bonnie! Bonnie Knight!" Max(Louise, whatever) said in a much more serious, quieter tone, blue eyes steeling. "You better get us outta here, 'cause yer bitch fit just rang the dinner fucking bell." Daryl filled out for Max, who smiled as she cocked her gun, waiting for Jess to move, but she only smiled, eyes covered with deep, dark black. "Don't worry, I just needed him to move his fucking car," she said cheerily, putting her hands on the steel pole and nodded, pulling out a small calculator thing, pressing it against the post and doing shit Daryl couldn't even comprehend, because it was so fast, but the next thing they knew, they were inside a small, run down shack at the edge of the city, with Jesse looking too proud of herself. "Okay, Max. You have got some explaining to do." Amy snapped, and Opium seemed to nod, looking at her with intelligent green eyes. "I know. Just let Bonnie take us back," she reasons simply, looking at the smaller woman as Jess looks back, blissfully ignorant about the whole situation. "Wait, tech geek. What 'bout our stuff?" Shane jumps at the opportunity to question the shady brunette, who looked at him indifferently, green eyes blank and dull. "Are ya connin' us?" He pressed, and the green eyed woman looked absolutely baffled, putting a hand on her chest. But then she smiled and nodded, standing infront of a door and bowing with a flourish, using her metal hand to activate the lock.  
"Ladies and gents, I present to you, Iridescent."

The group gaped as the door slid open, revealing a huge prison, with high, elextrocuted fences and 25 ft. high guard towers, their cars already there, a few men hovering beside it. "Oh my God," Lori breathed beside her child, clutching Rick's arm close to her body, and the leader of the group cleared his throat, nearing the girl with dark hair. The place was highly guarded, two or three men checking perimeter in every corner, every nook and cranny, and best of all, the woman had light, and hot water. "Oh, oh. Rick, right? The leader. Yes, yeeaah," she ushered them in, giving stiff commands to the other men and some women, making hand gestures and such. It looked natural, even at her young age to bear such authority over people older than her. "Hey, hey Bones! Get 'em to cell block C," she motioned to the big, black man who was checking their cars, who, in return smiled and waved, nodding. "Rick, Max. Come with me." She said quite seriously, looking over her shoulders as she shrugs off her trench coat, draping it on her arm. Daryl looks at Max, who smiles at him in reassurement, red hair pushed back.

"Just go in. She knows what she's doing."

"'Course I know what I'm doing! I'm Bonnie Knight!" The girl smiled and turned around, shooing the others and letting the two people in, but before she could get in herself, she motioned Glenn over, leaning in to whisper in his ear. The Asian blushed and ducked, walking over to where Daryl and T-Dog was being led, a faint smile on his face when Maggie seemed so dissed.

Bonnie's face seemed to dim as she closed the door behind her, lips pulled into a grim line. Max felt herself shudder. "Do you know what you're doing, Snow? Bringing them Ceruleans to the farm, bullshit!" The small girl bellowed, putting her palms on the table that seperates them. Rick thinks this was once a Warden's office. "Bonnie, I know what I'm doing," Max says calmly, as if she's had this conversation over a hundred times before, her blue eyes cool. "Do you, now? They're coming for you, and me. You know that, right? I didn't get my ass zapped for five months just to let you get caught by that maniac, again!" Bonnie hissed as she bows her head, clenching her metal hand as she tried to calm herself down. "I know, and I thank you, Bonnie, but they needed to get away there, my sister—" Rick stopped listening to think. Louise finally remembered her memories?

"Don't start, Snow. I swear to God. Don't start."

"Uh, I'm sorry, but am I really needed here?" Rick intervenes, finally, but Max slaps him upside the head, hushing him effectively. "Yes. You and your people are in danger, mate. They're comin' for you. That's why Max brought you here, because you people know her past." Bonnie moved to the other side of the room and took out a laptop, surprisingly still in it's best condition, and she puts it on top of the desk, flipping it open. Max sighs as she runs her metal hand through her red hair, putting her other on the woman's back. "Milton got me in, but that's it. We know what they're gonna do next, and we're going to intercept them."

"What are we supposed to do?" Rick says with determination, blue eyes clashing into dark green. "You, the tracker and the other ex-cop needs to hunt someone down for me. Merle Dixon." She explains, and then, Rick could see the years of torture and shame written all over her lifeless eyes as she coughed violently, blood spewing out her mouth. "Take it easy, Bonnie, we still have time." Max lifts her up when she sways dangerously on her feet, but she violently shrugs her off, looking at her with harsh malice.

"That's where you're wrong, Maxene. We don't have time."

**Author's Note:**

> this story is just plain shitty
> 
> I DIS-FUCKING-CLAIM EVERYTHING.  
> stew, out!


End file.
